The Ones We Trust
by Nannine
Summary: When Levi chooses the new members for his Special Operations Squad, how will they all interact as a team? Also, what's happening with Eren and Mikasa? Rated M for Levi-level swearing and fun stuff.
1. Slacking Off

Heyo! This is my first fic on this website (I ain't no greenhorn to ficcing, don't worry), so I will screw up with the formatting. It's a given, don't fight it.

If I made any mistakes (besides the horrific formatting oh god), please tell me. That's how people improve, after all. Just be nice about it, please! Also, if anyone is even slightly OOC to you, I would like to hear it. I've read the manga and watched the anime, so I know the characters fairly well. But, nevertheless, some people have opinions of characters that's different than mine. So, do tell! It'll help me make a better, more accurate character for you all to enjoy. And your enjoyment, as well as mine, is all I hope to accomplish.

Like the summary says (hopefully oh god the formatting), this fic is rated M for swearing that would make Levi proud (not all of it comes from Levi himself), as well as some fun stuff planned for later. Insert winky face here.

(I do not own Attack On Titan. I want to, dammit.)

* * *

"_Fuck_!"

Eren's choice vocabulary rang in the air, disturbing a flock of birds in the trees. A loud hissing noise followed his outburst, which made the birds fly faster. The hissing, coming from the Rogue Titan's body, was where Eren was ripping his limbs from the nape of the monster's neck.

After freeing himself, Eren toppled to the ground and cradled his face on his knees, groaning. "Armin," He shouted over to his best friend, who was sitting on a nearby rock and scribbling on a clipboard. "How did I do?"

Armin was the one to watch over Eren's Titan testing for that day. Squad Leader Hange, who most often ran the tests, was off in wall Sina. She was talking to Commander Erwin about who-knows-what. The absence of Hange made for a better testing environment, in Eren's opinion. The excessive yelling and waving of limbs—whether it be hers or his—from Hange wore him out. In comparison, Armin was a _blessing_.

That day, they were testing the usual for the past week: strength, intelligence, and endurance. The tests all had similar data, which was a step forward. Eren, in the beginning, was able to generate the 15-meter class Titan that everyone knew. This was when he had a majority of his vitality still with him. After a string of tests, which lasted for about an hour, the Titan body disintegrated from exhaustion. Eren would rest for thirty minutes, regaining some energy. After resting, Eren would generate another Titan form. This one was always a 12 or 13-meter class—smaller and weaker than the first one. This Titan, on average, lasted around thirty minutes; a whole half hour less than the first. After the second form disintegrated, Eren would rest again.

Today, Eren made it through the normal two Titans, performing various tasks for Armin to gather data from. He lifted heavy objects and threw them. He worked on his martial arts, testing his movement. He did pushups, built houses with tree trunks, and wrote in the dirt with an enormous finger. He even did various, strenuous things while holding a tree branch. This was to test if the Rogue Titan could hold a human being and perform these tasks without snapping the person it held in half. This task yielded positive results, which gave both Eren and Armin a sense of relief.

Hearing Eren's call, Armin hopped off the rock he was sitting on and sped over to Eren. Helping him sit, Armin clapped him on the back. "Well done, Eren." he said, grinning at his friend's half-destroyed face. It was a wonder that he didn't flinch anymore at the sight; it was a shocking image. "I got a lot of data from all that stuff you just did, so we can probably stop here and still satisfy Squad Leader Hange. Maybe even Squad Leader Levi."

Eren's single eyeball swiveled in its exposed socket, rolling around until it saw Armin through the steam. He grunted in agreement at what his friend said about stopping, adding a slight nod to make things clear. He then let his eye roll to staring straight, focused on regenerating his face and not passing out. Eren, as strong-willed as he was, knew that when half of his face melted off, and he felt like half his face melted off, it was time to stop.

Armin understood that Eren wasn't going to fight about ending the training session, so he laid him down to let him regenerate. Turning away, he sighed and stared at the forest that surrounded the home of Levi's Squad.

He had gathered plenty of information, sure. The truth that Armin didn't tell Eren was that none of the information he had gathered was _new_. After all, there was only a certain amount of information you could obtain from the same set of tasks they were making Eren perform.

They had already proven that Eren couldn't harden his body. So, to compensate, the team focused on strengthening all other aspects of the Rogue Titan. They had nowhere else to go for the moment, so they pushed Eren to train harder to compensate. Armin knew that he wasn't the only one who saw that Eren was working too hard. Hell, even _Jean_ mentioned to Armin in a hushed tone that Eren looked a little beat.

But, even though the times were tough for Eren, the training wasn't any easier for the rest of them. They all knew why they were overworking themselves, Eren included.

Mikasa was an entirely different story. She attempted to confront Levi about the training on multiple occasions, which only ended in a stern glare and a cold shoulder. She tried to confront Eren himself, saying that he should lighten up on the training and ignore what the others told him to do. These confrontations never ended well.

"Mikasa. Stop trying to protect me! I don't need it!"

"Eren, you're going to kill yourself from overworking! Please, don't try so hard!"

"Have you completely forgotten boot camp? This training is a piece of cake, compared to what we went through there! Are you saying I'm weak?"

"No! It's just…"

"I don't need your help or protection, Mikasa."

And then they would both storm off to opposite ends of the house to brood, leaving the rest of the squad to wander around somewhere in the middle.

Armin stole a glance at Eren, who looked ultimately better than before. He had both eyes, eyelids closed, mouth slightly open to breathe better. He no longer looked like he was in pain. In fact, when Armin crawled closer to make sure he was still alive, he heard the deep breaths of heavy, exhausted sleep.

Armin sighed again—the young man had seen too much in his life—and looked at the worn clipboard in his hand.

"Squad Leader Levi isn't going to like this." He mumbled, laying down next to Eren and placing an arm over his eyes.

He was asleep in seconds.

"The basement, Eren! _The basement_! THE BASEMENT!"

With a cry, Eren woke from his nightmare. He was covered in cold sweat and was shaking. His heart pounded in his chest, breaths coming in short gasps. To his immediate displeasure, Eren could feel himself tearing up.

"Hey. Don't go crying. You'll drown us all."

Eren sat bolt upright at the voice, hands clutching his chest and looked up to see—

"Yeager. I want you to tell me why you were sleeping on the ground. With this weakling, no less. You guys fucking, or what?"

Eren, heart still beating wild, made an "ehhh?" noise. Levi, sighing, pointed to Eren's side.

Armin was also just sitting up, looking much less distraught. "Armin, you fell asleep too?" Eren asked, regaining his bearings.

"Obviously, dipshit." Levi sighed. "Tell me why you're not training. You were supposed to be working until well after sunset. It's still daytime, as you can see." He lifted his hands, flicking a piece of dirt off the back of one. "I'm surprised that those huge eyes of yours didn't notice that it was still light out before you got your beauty sleep."

Both Eren and Armin winced, not taking Levi's reference to their lack of masculine features well. Before Eren could say anything and get them both in trouble, Armin bowed his head and clasped his hands.

"Forgive us, Sir!" He pleaded, bobbing his head for good measure. "We were both exhausted—"

"_Exhausted_, hmm." Levi interrupted. He did not look impressed.

"Okay, Eren exhausted himself after the Titan training, I was somewhat tired. Eren fell asleep after emerging from the second Titan form. I gathered quite a bit of information from the tests we did today, and felt that we did as much as we could do."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "And so you felt the need to sleep in the open."

Armin blushed, replying with "We have been working hard. I fell asleep before I could wake up Eren and continue with our training."

Eren looked at Armin, then up at Levi. The two on the ground waited for their Squad Leader to answer.

When he finally did, Levi let out a long sigh through his nose. "It seems I have been overworking you runts."

Eren resisted the urge to nod at his observation. He just glanced at Armin again. His friend was looking up at Levi still.

Levi continued. "Tomorrow, we will have an off day. Only some normal team training in the morning and evening, no Titan training." He looked down at Eren. "Got it, Yeager? I'm letting you off the hook, this time. Don't expect it. If you do, then expect my boot in your shitty face."

And he was off without another word, walking back to the house. When he finally slammed the door shut behind him, Armin scrambled over to Eren and rapped his knuckles on his forehead.

"Ow!" Eren leaned back, swatting Armin's hand away and rubbing his forehead. Once he realized it didn't hurt, he let his arm drop. They both turned and stared at the house Levi just went inside.

"Did he…" Eren replayed the memory within his head. "Did he just…"

"Wow. I didn't know the man had it in him to be nice." Armin frowned. He then brightened, looking at Eren with shining eyes. "A whole day to do nothing. Eren, this is great!" He reached over to rap his knuckles on Eren's head again, but Eren avoided it. Armin settled on rapping his knuckles on Eren's knee. "Good job, man! Your screw-up earned us a reward!"

Eren snorted. "You were the one who fell asleep without doing anything. At least I just emerged from my Titan!"

Armin laughed. A bright, clear sound. "I was writing all the info down! Give me some credit!"

"Wait until I tell Mikasa…" Eren started. His eyes got a faraway look in them. "She'll be relieved to hear that I'm stopping the training for a day."

Armin nodded, noticing the look on his friend's face. Standing up, he offered his hand to Eren. "Let's go tell her, then."

Eren, grinning up at Armin, grabbed his hand.

_Thanks, Levi. We all needed this._

Unaware of it, the two were being watched by Levi. He was making sure they didn't do anything even more stupid than what they did before. When he saw Eren get pulled up by Armin, he let the curtain fall back into place, satisfied that they were safe. Going over to the person sitting at the table, he pulled out the chair next to them and sat down.

"You'll be glad to hear that your beloved doesn't have to work hard tomorrow." He said, brushing off some crumbs on the table's surface. He valued his new team's skill, but they needed to learn how to clean up after themselves.

Suddenly, the paler hand grasped his and another body pressed against his side. Levi ceased brushing crumbs off and let his hand fall to the table, staring straight ahead.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

Surprised, he looked down at the young woman hugging him, her head resting against his shoulder. He couldn't see her face, but the movement of her mouth against his shirt told him that she was smiling.

And then someone threw open the door, a hearty cheer sounded through the house, and the woman hugging him was gone. People were celebrating around him, clapping him on the back and doing other unsightly things. Of course, Levi paid them no mind.

He was thinking of someone else. A short woman with light ginger hair and amber eyes.

Petra.

Another person touched him, but not in the clapping-the-back way. It was a light hand on his shoulder, the kind of touch that drew him out of his stupor.

He looked up into the face of Mikasa Ackerman, Eren Yeager's arm draped over her shoulders. They both were looking at him the way Petra did.

"Thank you." Eren said, giving Mikasa's shoulders a squeeze. "We'll make sure to not bother you tomorrow, okay?"

And then they were off to their own rooms, to do whatever kids these days do in their free time. Levi leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

_Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld. Do you see them? My new squad. They remind me of you all._

Levi, to his horror, felt a teardrop slide down his cheek. He wiped it away, glad that his squad had already gone upstairs. He stood, turned off the lamplight, and retired himself for the night.

He left the crumbs on the table.


	2. Heat

I'm back, with a second chapter in tow! What fun!

(I do not own Attack On Titan, a fact that makes me cry internally.)

* * *

Their off day was hot. So much so, that the men's shirts were long gone, stripped off their bodies and thrown to the ground. Levi, who had rolled up his sleeves but refused to do any more, had forced Connie to pick up the discarded clothing. He has plans to make the squad scrub them clean later in the day.

Typical Levi. Making them work, even on break.

The girls, unable to strip like the boys, had rolled up their sleeves and unbuttoned their shirts to immodest levels. Sasha had even taken off her skirt, much to the dismay of Levi and the excitement of Connie. Levi was relieved and Connie was depressed when the skirt revealed a pair of shorts. Sasha, seeing the look on Connie's face, threw her skirt at him and started yelling about trying to be a respectable young man. Levi made him take the discarded skirt to the house as "punishment", where it soon joined the pile of shirts.

Mikasa rolled up her sleeves as well, unbuttoning her shirt to the lowest point she could go without giving Levi a heart attack. She even took off her scarf, folding it with care and placing it on a nearby rock. The action earned her a shocked look from Jean.

"I thought you never took that off, unless it was to clean it." He remarked, taking care to look at her face and not at the large gap in the button-down shirt she wore. When Mikasa met his gaze, he gulped, trying not to let the heat of the day make his blush even brighter. Mikasa had a long, slender neck, flushed from having the hot scarf wrapped around it. It led to a pale, unmarked chest, leading to the tantalizing curve of her breasts…

When Mikasa replied with "I also take it off when it's too hot," he yelped like a timid animal. His outburst earned him a raised eyebrow from Mikasa, who looked like she was about to ask if something was wrong with him. She quickly dismissed him, though, when Armin called her name from across the field. Without another word, she turned away from him and went over to her long-time friend.

Jean, instantly relieved, sighed and sat down on the spot, crossing his arms and leaning on his thighs. He hoped that it would be enough to cover up the uncomfortable tightness in his pants.

Hange, who was sunbathing nearby with little clothing on, sighed as well, gathering the attention of Jean. "What is it?" He asked, a look of caution on his face. He was still worried about his… _problem_ downstairs.

Hange sighed again, this time adding a dreamy smile. "I'm just glad that I have such a nice view."

Jean's heart sped up, and he shifted his arms. "Come again?"

She laughed and lifted her head from the rock it was laying on, shielding her eyes from the bright sun. "Come on, Jean! You don't know, even though it involves you?

Jean started sweating even more, shifting his arms again. "W-what?" He stammered. _Why me?_ He thought.

Hange sat up all the way, making Jean jump and flail with his hands, stammering the whole time. Hange ignored him, though, throwing out a hand and gesturing to everyone in the field. "Look at all the hot bodies! I'm definitely _not_ complaining about 3DMG training!"

Jean, eye twitching, had to agree. The gear that they used to fight the Titans definitely required a strong, muscular body. He, along with his friends, sported better figures than a vast majority of the population. Hell, he had a better body than most of the 104th graduating class… _but really, Hange?_

"Jean, do you agree?" She asked, leaning in and grinning in his face. Jean leaned back sharply, nodding all the while. "Yes ma'am!" He squeaked, hoping that she wouldn't notice his slowly receding erection.

Apparently satisfied with his reply, Hange moved back to her spot on the rock. She returned to what she was doing before, which was… looking at someone, grinning lecherously.

Shivering, Jean followed her gaze, reluctant to see who it was. When his eyes rested on Eren, he winced.

Eren was sitting on the hard-packed ground, talking with Armin and Mikasa. His posture—leaning back on his haunches, with his knees touching the ground in front of him—didn't help with his modesty. As he reached up to brush a strand of hair out of his huge, green eyes, he started to laugh at something Armin said. The two actions accentuated his abdomen—something Sasha's village called an "_eight pack_"—even more than usual. The sweat gleaming on his bare chest didn't help, either.

No wonder Hange looked like she should be drooling. He looked like a god, and made Jean even more jealous that Mikasa was talking intently to him.

Hange grinned at Jean's sour expression, glancing from between him and Eren. "Nice, right?" She asked him. "A marvelous specimen, in both human and Titan form."

Jean made a face, forcing his thoughts away from what her comment entailed.

Ignoring his obvious disagreement, Hange closed her eyes. "It's too hot to even stare at the hot bodies. Wake me up in an hour, will you?" She closed her eyes.

Jean, giving her an exasperated look, found his gaze being pulled back to the trio across the field. When he took another look, his moth fell open in shock.

Mikasa, who was previously kneeling like Eren, was now on her hands and knees. She was reaching across their makeshift circle to brush a particularly long strand of hair out of Eren's eyes. She held onto it, saying something to Eren and shaking the strand. Armin laughed at what Mikasa said, nodding at Eren like he agreed with Mikasa. Eren rolled his eyes, but then noticed something. His face grew pink and he immediately looked up at the sky.

_What'd he see?_ Jean growled, knowing what kinds of things made a man blush like that. And if it involved Mikasa, he wasn't okay with it.

Mikasa, a look of confusion on her face, spoke to Eren, probably asking what was wrong. Armin, chuckling, said something to Mikasa and tapped his chest.

Mikasa immediately looked down at her already immodest shirt. It was gaping open, _right_ in Eren's line of sight, in a way that would make Levi have a fit. She immediately returned to sitting on her haunches, blushing brighter than Jean had ever seen before. She gestured to Eren's hair with frantic movements of one hand, while the other one clasped her shirt closed up to her neck. She was trying to divert the conversation back to the previous topic, but Armin wouldn't have it. He had already fallen over from laughing too hard, his cackle audible even from where Jean was sitting. The noise was getting the attention of the others, who began to gather around. Even Levi looked up from his book to see what was happening to his squad of idiots.

Armin, from the looks of it, was about to tell Connie what happened, when Mikasa tackled him and pinned his arms behind his back. Armin chuckled, even within the hold Mikasa had on him, then shook his head sadly at Connie. Connie looked miffed, but didn't pry after Mikasa shot him a glare.

Meanwhile, Eren's face was a bright red color, the harsh blush reaching all the way up to his hairline and turning his ears pink. He was waving his hands in front of him and babbling, probably repeating the same apology multiple times over.

Jean looked away, his jealousy almost palpable. He wanted to see what Eren had seen, for sure. He wanted to do even more than just looking, though—

He ripped himself from his thoughts, restraining his urge to punch something. Looking down, he couldn't help but growl at the problem downstairs. It was persistent and visible as ever, of course. Just his luck.

He almost threw a rock at Hange when she opened an eye and looked at him, chuckling at his misfortune.

"Who's the one you want to be on the end of that lovely package, dear? Eren or Mikasa?" She quipped.

When she asked that, Jean _did _throw a rock at her.

She dodged it with ease, pushing her glasses up her nose and grinning. "Don't worry, son! We're team mates now. Trust me, I won't tell a soul about it."

Jean, relaxing a bit at her words, was put on edge again as she leaned toward him. He scrambled to move his problem out of her sight, glaring at her lecherous grin.

"Hmm, you're pretty big. Don't mind taking me for a spin, do you?"

Jean, watching Hange's giggle turn into a full-blown cackle, resolved to never tell her a secret.


	3. Haircut

*Dumps chapter and walks away.

There will be mistakes, but fuck it. I had to rewrite this entire story, after it was completely finished. JUST because I didn't like it. Eurgh, annoying things are annoying.

(I don't own shit.)

* * *

Eren was beginning to believe that he had insomnia.

After a couple minutes of lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, he thought he had too much energy to rest. Of course, it had only been a few minutes, and falling asleep obviously took time. Thinking that this was the case, he relaxed and let his eyes slide shut.

After a while of no success, he cracked an eye open. Thinking about it, he realized that something _could_ be wrong. He gave it another few minutes, though, thinking it would start to work soon. To help it along, he did some breath-control exercises to slow his heart rate down.

A few minutes after that, he decided something _was _wrong. The breathing wasn't working, and he had nothing else in the middle of nowhere that could help. No warm glass of milk or anything to soothe him. It wouldn't help, anyway; he hated milk.

And finally, after an hour had gone past, he gave up on trying to sleep. Sitting up, he groaned into his hands. _Why_ _me_, he thought, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. When he leaned too far forward and slipped off the bed, landing on his front, he sighed into the floor. "Why _me_?" he asked aloud, groaning when his face started to hurt.

"Why you what?"

Eren, surprised by the sudden voice, looked up. "Huh?"

Mikasa, who still had her hand on the doorknob, was looking down at him on the floor. Eren realized how weird he must have looked, with half his body on the floor and the other half poking up into the air. He stared up at her from underneath his bangs, his eyes as wide as hers.

"Eren, are you okay?" Mikasa asked, her eyebrows scrunched together.

He nodded his head vigorously. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

"Okay…" She said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Eren, as he got up off the floor, took the time to take in her appearance. Since it was just as hot as yesterday, she was wearing her warm-weather pajamas. They weren't really pajamas—just an old shirt of his and a pair of shorts like Sasha's. To be honest, it was quite a bit more skin than she usually showed. He wasn't one to judge, though, since he was wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants.

As he thought about their lack of clothing, he unconsciously retied the drawstring on his pants a little tighter.

Even after he sat down on the bed, Mikasa was still standing in the doorway. She was watching him with the same expression as before. "Mikasa," He said, rolling his eyes, "I told you not to worry about it. You can come in, too." He patted the bed next to him, as if to invite her in. Her next words, though, stopped him in his tracks.

"Remember yesterday, when we were sitting there with Armin?" She asked, still in the doorway.

At the mention of the memory, Eren felt his face take on a red tinge. "Uh, um—" He stammered. He remembered—_quite vividly_—how Mikasa leaned forward, giving Eren a direct view down her shirt. It was a complete, honest accident, but the memory made Eren's heart to beat faster all the same.

Thinking that she was there to punish him, he held up his hands to ward her off. "Mikasa, it was an accident! You know it was—"

Mikasa stepped into the room, the movement revealing something she held in her hands. When he saw them, Eren's jaw dropped open.

"Mikasa, why the hell are you holding a huge-ass pair of rusty shears?"

In essence, Eren explained them perfectly; they were, indeed, a huge-ass pair of rusty shears. They looked like they hadn't been indoors for several decades. Hell, they looked like they hadn't been _touched_ for several decades.

Mikasa ignored his outburst and pried the shear blades open, making the hinge shriek in protest and effectively shutting him up. She stepped away from the door, kicking it closed behind her. She closed the distance between them, poking the shears into his bare chest. "Do you know why I'm here, Eren?" Mikasa asked him.

Eren, feeling nervous sweat run down between his shoulder blades, wracked his brain for an answer. What did he do, besides look down her shirt? He knew that the whole thing was a major violation to her privacy, but he had apologized time and time again to her. What was she going to do about it? Attack him with a pair of rusty shears?

He liked his body without any Mikasa-inflicted mutilations, thank you very much.

Discreetly as possible, he tried to lean away from Mikasa to get some personal space back. Of course, being so close already, Mikasa didn't miss his movement. Snaking a hand out, she grabbed a handful of hair on the top of his head and brought his face up to hers.

With their noses touching, she narrowed her dark eyes at his large, green ones. Without another word, she raised the shears.

Eren screwed his eyes shut, expecting some limb to get chopped off. He heard the shriek of the shears grinding shut—

And felt something light fall onto his shoulder.

Popping one eye open, He looked at Mikasa. She had moved her face away from his and was _doing something to his hair—_

"Eren, stop moving so much." She said. Her stern expression was gone, replaced by a more focused one. "You want a weird length of hair on the top of your head?"

Eren blinked a few times, figuring it out in a second. "What're… you're cutting my hair?" What _that_ the reason for the shears?

Mikasa leaned back a bit to get a better look at him. "Yes, I am. Remember yesterday? We discussed how long your bangs were getting, how you have to constantly brush them out of your eyes. I told you I was going to cut it for you today. That was before you turned pervert and looked down my shirt." She said the last bit with small grin on her lips, showing him that she knew it had been unintentional. "Or, since you got a glimpse of my goods, you forgot everything we talked about?"

Eren blushed even harder at her words, shutting his eyes and crinkling his nose in embarrassment. "No, of course not!"

"Your red ears tell the truth, you know. No need to lie." She grinned, flicking the appendage in question. Feeling like she had teased him enough, she stepped back, letting him move free. Eren let loose a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, looking at the shears in Mikasa's hands. He was glad they were further away from his hair.

"Honestly," she continued, making Eren look up at her face. She was smiling at him. "I didn't really see any harm done yesterday. My chest was still bound from the 3DMG training in the morning, so it could've been a lot worse." She giggled, resting the shears against the bedside table and taking a seat on the bed next to Eren. "We've gone through more awkward things in our lives. Compared to some situations, yesterday was a breeze."

Eren chuckled, feeling relieved at Mikasa's words. She wasn't mad at him, which was great. "If you came in here to give me a haircut, why did you intend to use a pair of rusty shears?"

Mikasa shrugged. "First thing I found."

"Liar."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow at him. "Honest. And we agreed that I would cut your hair today."

Eren looked out the window. The sun had just vanished behind the trees, casting a large shadow on the house. Looking back at Mikasa, he fought her resolve with "Isn't it a little late for that?"

Mikasa looked outside as well, shrugging. "I said I would do it today. I promised."

Eren sighed and grabbed her hand. Squeezing it, he said "Well, I don't mind if you do it tomorrow. Honestly, I would much rather have you use the scissors and not the tool of the devil you have in mind."

Mikasa gave him an apathetic look, getting off the bed. Hefting the shears back into her hands, she pointed them at his head. "Sit still and this will be easier for both of us."

Eren gulped.

Mikasa was _not_ a talented hairdresser.

Eren's room was often filled with soft-spoken swears. He was sitting in the middle of his bed, with Mikasa maneuvering around him on her knees to reach different spots of his hair. The shears were proving to be difficult to use. It required both hands to close the handles, and keeping the correct length between the blades turned into a crapshoot. She would often cut a portion too long, then would have to go back and cut it again to the correct length.

To help her out, Eren stayed as still as he could. The 3DMG training came in handy for haircuts, he soon found out.

Around ten minutes into the process, the curses and grinding of Mikasa's shears jarred Connie awake from his sleep. To stop the noise, he personally scoured the house for a more useful, less _noisy_ utensil to cut Eren's hair.

He had originally tried to make Mikasa stop the process completely, at least for the day. Mikasa, stubborn as ever, refused and insisted that Connie needed to look for another tool. If not, she would just continue using the shears. Of course, there was no budging Mikasa, Eren was giving him a pleading look, and all Connie wanted to do was to get back to his nap. So, in another ten minutes, Mikasa found herself holding a pair of sharp scissors.

She continued to cut Eren's hair as soon as the scissors were in her grasp, thanking Connie and wishing him sweet dreams. In response, Connie flipped the bird over his shoulder and said something along the lines of "_fuck_ _you_." He then left to recuperate in peace.

Eren Yeager's guilty pleasure: When people played with his hair.

His fondness for the action manifested because of his mother. Whenever he had a nightmare, or if he got into a fight with the brutes of Shiganshina, he would rest his head on her lap while she was reading. She would play with his hair with one hand, continuing to turn pages with the other. The feeling of her fingers running through his hair and over his scalp lulled him to sleep every time.

Mikasa, knowing Eren inside and out in a way only she could, was well-aware of his several guilty pleasures. When she figured out the one about his hair, she would sometimes take her adoptive mother's place. She liked having Eren's head resting on her lap, running her hands through his locks and massaging his scalp. When he finally fell asleep, she would continue the action, hoping that it would promote good dreams.

After the fall of Wall Maria, Mikasa found herself needing to play with his hair more and more often to make sure he slept well. It was a direct product of the hell he had been through, she decided.

The first time she snuck into Eren's barrack at boot camp, the other boys had stared at her in disbelief. Why the hell was Mikasa, the best soldier in the 104th trainees squad, in their barrack after curfew? With nothing on but a shirt that looked like it belonged to a guy, no less?

Ignoring them, she made her way through the barrack. She found him sleeping fitfully; his sheets tangled and sweat coating his skin. She climbed into his bed, placed his head in her lap, and wove her fingers through his hair. When he slept soundly, she left.

Eren, not remembering any of it, asked her at breakfast what the constant "lucky son of a bitch" comments were about. He grew annoyed at her when she refused to tell him.

Smiling at the good memories, Mikasa started to play with his hair as she cut it. When she finished in a few minutes, she put the scissors on the bedside table and brushed the hairs that fell on the bed onto the floor. With all that done, she crawled around him to take a peek at his expression.

She stifled a giggle when she saw his face. He was completely relaxed, sporting heavy-lidded eyes and slightly parted lips. He was also hunched over, almost to the point of falling on his face. Mikasa, not wanting to leave him in his half-awake state, took hold of his shoulders and laid him down. She watched his eyes slide shut as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Still looking at him, she thought about his eyes. She liked how expressive they could be. They never failed to amaze her at how much emotion he could hold in a single glance. Whenever he looked at her, she felt like she was being drawn to him, just from the fire in his eyes—

Mikasa hadn't noticed she was daydreaming until she found herself gazing into the orbs she had been thinking about.

Eren was looking up at her through his lashes. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, then moved to her hand in her lap. His own hand snaked out, grabbing her wrist and drawing her down onto the covers to join him.

His arms snaked around her, one draped over her waist, the other cradling her head on his bicep. His arm bent around her hair, his hand gently pushing her head to his chest. Using the arm around her middle, he moved his body to fit against hers. Once satisfied, he breathed a sigh into her hair, letting his eyelids slide shut.

Eren Yeager's other guilty pleasure: cuddling.

Smiling into his chest, Mikasa hugged him back and closed her eyes as well. Lifting up her topmost leg and draping it over his, she locked ankles with him. When _she_ was satisfied, she smiled even wider, humming her happiness into his chest.

Feeling him shiver delightfully at the sound, she hummed a bit more. She stopped short, though, when he joined her. Unlike hers, which came from her "head," as people often put it, he hummed from deep within his chest. The result was a soft rumble—almost a buzz—that sent a shiver throughout her body. She let out a shaky breath, pressing her head closer to his chest to better hear the vibrations.

He grinned into her hair at her response, humming more. He even started playing with her raven locks, returning the favor from earlier.

As Mikasa drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but let out a long, contented sigh. Feeling Eren's humming start up again with new vigor at the noise, she concluded that Eren's barrack mates were wrong. _She_ was the "lucky son of a bitch."

Mikasa Ackerman's one and only guilty pleasure: Eren Yeager.

The next morning, the two woke up to the sound of Jean throwing the door wide open and screaming something about indecency.

Groggily looking down, Mikasa understood why. They were still in the position they had fallen asleep in, still lacking a significant amount of clothing. The whole thing looked more provocative than anything, she decided.

Looking up, she met Eren's hooded gaze. He had also noticed their situation, but made no moves to change it. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if asking "_You going to do anything_?"

She shook her head as much as the room allowed, smirking up at him with narrowed eyes. "_Let's make Jean suffer a bit_."

He grinned back, burying his face in her hair again. To her surprise, he slid his hand down the bare skin of her midriff, coming to a stop on her hip.

She grinned at his action, taking the sudden wave of intimacy as a challenge. Mikasa untangled her leg with his ankle and hooked it around his thigh. She pressed closer to him for emphasis. When Jean's screams climbed a few octaves, they both stifled their snickers.

They fell back asleep like that, with him starting to hum again and her pressing against him to hear the vibrations. They both ignored Jean, who was still shrieking from the doorway.

After a few minutes, Levi—still wearing a sleeping cap on his head—walked past and grabbed Jean by the ear, dragging him downstairs to make breakfast.


End file.
